the GW bridge.

stumbling upon an inspirational source is often times where my writing is born. usually it sparks a creative fire that cannot be contained-so it spills into an over analytical blog. on rare occasions, someone asks me to write about a specific topic. this is one of those times. a reoccurring theme has recently arisen from the depths of human comfort to the surface of a conversation with a good friend is the issue of personal accountability. the concept commonly carries more weight than we give it credit for. if someone isn't focused strictly on results, but also considers motivations, personal accountability can sway the direction of a friendship or relationship.

in my last blog, i discussed how comical it can be when people lose perspective. sometimes, there is greater comedic value in people who never had perspective in the first place. i referred to this as "anti-hubris" because the joker does not acknowledge their comic flaw. this is the opposite of a much more scholarly term that actually exists known obviously as hubris. this is commonly found in tragedies where a tragic hero remains unaware of his own tragic flaw, ultimately leading to his downfall.

do we really have to be that tragic to embrace "hubris?" no offense to king leopold or macbeth, but there is an unresolved tension between those of us who don't know our tragic flaws and those who don't want to know our tragic flaws. or, if we do acknowledge them, our eyes conveniently go blind to how deep these flaws run. perhaps the most tragic human flaw is that we don't change what we know is wrong. i frequently fall guilty to this with words as my weapon and familiarity as a false security. if someone hurts me, i fight back with the sharpest possible rhetoric i can muster. sadly i don't even need to plot these words, but i can cut someone simply with my stream of consciousness.

i cross the line. i say undeservedly mean things. and the initially hurtful party lays down with a wound twice the severity of that which they inflicted. and all to accomplish what? an undeniable guilt that pulses through my veins for hours, days, weeks, and years after. a large part of me is glad i am not satisfied with my ability to mow down people with vividly painful phrases. even more, i am glad that this is something i want to change. but i never break this cycle of criticizing others and myself. why? am i that comfortable with this behavior that i leave thoughts of a higher road in the dust of my well worn low dirt road?

i can never look at the split level George Washington Bridge the same. i thought i always liked the upper level, but i guess that's where my metaphor ends.
-k.